The telephone rang again.

“Nate the Great for Olivia Sharp,”

I said.

“Hello. This is Duncan.

It’s eleven o’clock

and the world is coming to an end.”

I, Nate the Great, hoped that

this Duncan person did not have

his information straight.

“I need Olivia,” Duncan said.

“Olivia is out,” I said.

Duncan moaned.

“Then the world

is really coming to an end.”

“Could you be more specific?” I asked.

“Well,” said Duncan,

“I lost my joke book.

I have to tell a joke

to a friend at two o’clock

and I forget how it ends.”

“Olivia is on your case,” I said.

“Yes, I’m her case number twenty-two,”

Duncan said.

“But she is also working on cases number

eighteen and number

twenty-one at the same time.

She’ll never solve mine

by two o’clock.”

I, Nate the Great, had never

heard such a sad voice.

“Very well,” I said. “I will also

take your case.”

I hung up.

Then I called my mother.

The answering machine came on.

I said,